


Clockwork Clown

by MildlyRebelliousMint



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Mental Health Issues, batman? more like sad compassion man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:35:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23061811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MildlyRebelliousMint/pseuds/MildlyRebelliousMint
Summary: A drive to Arkham and a conversation about love.
Relationships: Harleen Quinzel & Bruce Wayne
Comments: 14
Kudos: 115





	Clockwork Clown

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this like a month ago and I wasn't going to post it, but then I reread it while sorting through the notes on my phone and was like "actually that's pretty okay."
> 
> Even though I wrote this right after the movie came out, Harley is way more BTAS than BoP
> 
> The title comes from the translation of Karakuri Pierrot by 40mp.
> 
> luckynumberblack back at it again with the beta. (sorry for screwing with the rules of grammar so much)

Harley prefers the seat in the Batmobile to the back of a cop car. Batman handcuffs her firmly, but not tight enough to leave a mark if she doesn't tug. He doesn't mock her, or call her a psycho bitch, or tell her what she should be using her mouth for. Normally, he drives and Robin demands to know where she learned to do a handspring or why her costume doesn't look like a harlequin. She doesn't even mind Arkham much. She has friends there, at least.

There's no Robin this time, but it's too late for Batman to recover much of his brutal avenger persona.

It's funny Pam hates the Bat so much. They always tell her the same thing. It makes sense, coming from Pam. She could rave for hours about plants or feminism or the fossil fuel industry or that time in Arkham Ed had tried to test riddles on her. Batman, on the other hand, didn't seem inclined to waste his breath.

"He's using you, Quinn, " Batman says, with that rough voice of his. She thinks he must lower his real voice an octave or two. In the rare instances when he's surprised or particularly worried - like that time his boy wonder teetered dangerously over a long drop - his voice isn't quite so low. 

She feels sort of bad for him, chasing his tail. Do bats have tails? "You know I'm a bottle blond?"

Batman glances over at her. "Yes, actually. Your hair is brittle from over-bleaching."

"Ha! Show-off." She'd be more offended if Jon hadn't tried working her hair into a metaphor about her relationship with the Joker last week. "I'm just saying, I ain't as dumb as I look."

He doesn't respond to that. Just keeps driving his car.

"So," she says after a minute of watching dumpsters and banged up doors pass, "what happened to the kid? It ain't a school night."

He's quiet and for a moment she doesn't think he'll answer. She really wishes she had some gum to chew.

"He has a D in math." 

She snorts. "You really are a stick in the mud. Go easy on the kid, huh?"

"He can do better, " Batman says, "Both of you can."

" _This_ bird got As in school.” She sticks out her tongue. Then, deciding it would be funny, crosses her eyes.

“Hh.”

“That’s actually what happened to me,” she says, pulling a sad pout. “All my parents cared about were grades. One day, the pressure got to be too much and - _POP!_ ”

To his credit, Batman doesn’t wince when she shouts in his ear.

“Now I’m mad as a hatter,” she concludes, serenely settling down in her seat.

“That’s a lie.”

“Aw, mean. But I guess Jervis might be a _little_ nuttier.” 

“If you tell that story to Robin, I _will_ make you regret it.”

She bursts into laughter. “Now I gotta, though!” 

Batman makes an annoyed, grumbly noise. _Real_ intimidating. 

She snickers. Once it teeters off, Batman says, seriously, "You _can_ do better."

She huffs. "You'd say that to a chewed up piece of gum on the sidewalk." She leans her head against the window. "I bet you'd mean it, though. Makes it hard to work up the proper disdain."

Her breath is fogging up the glass. If her hands were free, she'd draw a smiley face.

"It ain't like..." she drops the accent. It's just her and the Bat and... she can't tell Pam. "I did think he loved me. Even when his stories stopped fitting together, I... I figured I just wasn't looking from the right angle, you know?"

"And now?"

She shrugs, swallowing a lump in her throat. "I don't know. Everyone needs someone, I guess."

"Pick someone else."

"I don’t _get_ to pick.”

"Isley."

Harley turns from the window, actually thrown for the first time in the conversation. "What?"

"You either think no one can love you or that you don't deserve love and love isn't a question of deserve.”

"Okay, whatever," Harley cuts in, "Are you trying to _set me up_?”

"That isn’t my point." Tiredness leaks into his voice. "She cares about you. You crawl back to your vices and she picks you off the floor every time. Be better so she doesn't have to."

"You speaking from experience, B-man?"

There's a pause.

"You can't push yourself as hard when a teenager with bad grades is expecting you to come home at the end of the night."

Harley grins, watching the road streak by. "Fine. I'll give the recovery thing another go, so the homicidal plant lady doesn't have to worry."

She thinks she catches the reflection of a smile in the window. "That's the spirit.”


End file.
